Man says liver transplant is just one miracle that saved his life

Thanks to a series of miracles and the medical team at Duke, Hendersonville resident John McCabe has a new liver and was able to meet his granddaughter and grandson. McCabe holds a Duke hat that he had surgeons, doctors, nurses and staff sign while he was receiving treatment for hepatitis C.

PATRICK SULLIVAN/TIMES-NEWS

By CAITLIN BYRDTimes-News Staff Writer

Published: Monday, June 9, 2014 at 4:30 a.m.

Last Modified: Sunday, June 8, 2014 at 11:53 a.m.

John McCabe will never know the name of the 42-year-old woman who donated her organs and saved his life and two others in 2011, but sitting in his Hendersonville home three years later, the 59-year-old grandfather says the liver transplant was just one of many miracles.

“I got to meet my granddaughter because of this transplant, and now I got to meet my grandson,” he said as he pointed to different pictures of his grandchildren Leanora, 3, and Eli, 3 months, on his iPhone. “It was a gift from God.”

For almost 35 years, McCabe did not realize he had a silent disease living inside his body, as the hepatitis C virus slowly attacked his liver.

“Hepatitis C is a real quiet infection,” explained Dr. Andrew Muir, liver disease specialist and McCabe's physician at Duke University Medical Center. “Hepatitis C is able to sort of fly under the radar of the immune system. It does it so well that it can actually develop mutant strains that make it easy to avoid or hide from the body's defenses.”

According to the Centers for Disease Control, hepatitis C is the leading cause of cirrhosis of the liver and liver cancer in the United States, and is responsible for approximately 15,000 deaths each year.

Muir said a person can become infected with the virus by sharing needles, having sex with someone who has the virus or being born to a mother with hepatitis C.

For McCabe, though, the virus was not contracted through any of those methods. In 1975, McCabe was in a car accident and received a blood transfusion in West Virginia. Unfortunately, widespread blood screening practices were not used in the United States until 1992, and McCabe received blood infected by the hepatitis C virus.

Muir said this is why it is imperative for baby boomers, persons born between 1946 and 1964, to get a onetime blood screening for hepatitis C.

Like many people with hepatitis C, McCabe did not have any symptoms until his liver began to suddenly weaken.

“Once one thing happened, it was like a domino effect,” McCabe said.

The first miracle

About five years ago, McCabe was working as a salesperson at Carolina Furniture Concepts, but when the once energetic McCabe began to fall asleep at work, additional symptoms surfaced. His joints hurt and his body swelled up, especially his legs.

“I had to cut my socks to have circulation in my feet,” McCabe said.

McCabe said that when his boss, Sandeep Gupta, approached him about taking time off, that was when he finally realized how urgently he needed medical attention.

Gupta asked McCabe to take a week off to go see a doctor.

However, McCabe, who worked on commission, said he couldn't afford to take time away from work. Again, Gupta pressed McCabe to see a physician. This time, Gupta appealed to the relationship the two had built working together.

“I'm telling you as a friend, not a boss,” McCabe remembers Gupta saying. Again, McCabe refused.

It was more than money that had kept McCabe from becoming a patient. He had seen one of his brothers die of AIDS. After witnessing the way his brother, Tim McCabe, had been treated by physicians and society alike, McCabe had avoided doctors ever since.

Gupta remembers the day he urged McCabe to see a doctor.

“He wasn't willing to accept the fact that there was something wrong with him. I just had to push him a little bit to go to the doctor and seek the help he needed,” Gupta recalled.

It was then that Gupta reached into his pocket and handed McCabe $500.

“That's the kind of guy he is,” McCabe recalled, wiping away a tear. “I knew he was serious about it, and I knew I needed to do something about it.” McCabe saw a doctor in Asheville and was diagnosed with hepatitis C.

Initially, he did not tell anyone in his family. Memories of the stigma his brother's disease carried, and now memories his own disease carried as well, kept him from sharing.

“I didn't want to worry my family — nobody does. … I thought I could bear it all myself,” he said. “I was bearing the burden, but they were glad to. That's the way family and friends — real friends — are.”

A stranger-turned-friend would help McCabe bear the burden, too.

The second miracle

McCabe continued to work while he looked for a doctor who would agree to accept him as a patient.

“I couldn't find anyone here that could help me. I went to Greenville, S.C. I went all over,” McCabe said, estimating that he saw at least seven doctors during that time. “But I had a death sentence as soon as I walked in (a doctor's office) because they knew how far along I was.”

By that time, McCabe said he was having a hard time getting through each day, especially when his mornings almost always began with feeling nauseated or vomiting.

While he was working, a customer looking for a place to sit would help McCabe find the care he needed.

While the stranger told McCabe about his aches and pains, McCabe realized they were the same a set of symptoms as his own.

“I never do this, it's very unprofessional, but I asked him if he was sick. He said, 'Yeah, and you are, too,' ” McCabe said. “He told me that I wasn't going to find what I was looking for in Asheville, and to call him when I got my blood reports and he would refer me to a doctor.”

As McCabe's symptoms grew worse, he called the man.

“I know you want to do this on your own. I wanted to do it on my own, too. But take it from me,” the man said. “Go to Duke.”

The third miracle

Anxious for help, McCabe went to Duke Medical Center in early 2011.

Muir, the liver disease specialist, said he still remembers what he thought when he met McCabe, “He was quite ill. He was already at that point where it was quite advanced,” he said. “I remember thinking that he's dying before our eyes.”

The only way to save his life, Muir said, was a liver transplant.

The disease continued to progress, and McCabe's condition worsened. More tests were done, but the Hendersonville man showed no signs of improvement.

Two days after his 59th birthday, McCabe was told there was nothing else the medical staff could do for him without a new liver.

“They told me I could either stay around Durham, or I could go home. I knew what that meant,” he said.

After talking with his wife, Jamie McCabe, and his family, McCabe decided to go home the next day.

As McCabe and his wife walked toward the doors, a nurse ran up to McCabe and grabbed his arm.

“You've got a liver,” she said.

McCabe wiped a tear from his face as he recalled the moment and, looking toward the heavens, said, “I'm sorry. It just blows me away. I'm not sure if it was a nurse or an angel.”

According to Muir, there is something miraculous about finding a liver for McCabe just in time.

“You can be at the top of the transplant list and be so sick, yet you have to hope that by the time that you need it that a liver becomes available in time,” Muir said.

The final miracle

Hepatitis C is not automatically cured by a transplant, since the virus will continue to live in both the bloodstream and the liver. However, McCabe's care at Duke coincided with new research in hepatitis C and new treatments with better success rates.

“There's been a lot of research on hepatitis C in the last decade,” Muir said. “There are pills that specifically target the hepatitis C to keep it from making a new virus. Now, we're in the next wave of drugs. … We are light years ahead of where we were even at the time that he was diagnosed.”

McCabe said he began taking the hepatitis drug a year ago. In the first six to eight weeks, he went from a 50 million viral count to zero.

Muir said McCabe has shown no signs of hepatitis C for more than 10 months, and is considered cured.

“This is why we do this. These people find themselves in these situations, and it's so amazing to know that this is what medicine currently allows,” Muir said.

For McCabe, the story of his liver transplant is a series of miraculous events that allows him to live his life today. When McCabe went into surgery, he said his goal was to meet his granddaughter, Leanora.

“My next goal is to go to that first Little League game for Eli,” McCabe said.

As he continues to follow his treatment today, McCabe still keeps a few pairs of the old socks that used to cut when hepatitis C symptoms caused his feet to swell.

“I put them on sometimes just to remind myself how lucky I am,” McCabe said.

<p>John McCabe will never know the name of the 42-year-old woman who donated her organs and saved his life and two others in 2011, but sitting in his Hendersonville home three years later, the 59-year-old grandfather says the liver transplant was just one of many miracles.</p><p>“I got to meet my granddaughter because of this transplant, and now I got to meet my grandson,” he said as he pointed to different pictures of his grandchildren Leanora, 3, and Eli, 3 months, on his iPhone. “It was a gift from God.”</p><p>For almost 35 years, McCabe did not realize he had a silent disease living inside his body, as the hepatitis C virus slowly attacked his liver.</p><p>“Hepatitis C is a real quiet infection,” explained Dr. Andrew Muir, liver disease specialist and McCabe's physician at Duke University Medical Center. “Hepatitis C is able to sort of fly under the radar of the immune system. It does it so well that it can actually develop mutant strains that make it easy to avoid or hide from the body's defenses.”</p><p>According to the Centers for Disease Control, hepatitis C is the leading cause of cirrhosis of the liver and liver cancer in the United States, and is responsible for approximately 15,000 deaths each year. </p><p>Muir said a person can become infected with the virus by sharing needles, having sex with someone who has the virus or being born to a mother with hepatitis C. </p><p>For McCabe, though, the virus was not contracted through any of those methods. In 1975, McCabe was in a car accident and received a blood transfusion in West Virginia. Unfortunately, widespread blood screening practices were not used in the United States until 1992, and McCabe received blood infected by the hepatitis C virus. </p><p>Muir said this is why it is imperative for baby boomers, persons born between 1946 and 1964, to get a onetime blood screening for hepatitis C. </p><p>Like many people with hepatitis C, McCabe did not have any symptoms until his liver began to suddenly weaken. </p><p>“Once one thing happened, it was like a domino effect,” McCabe said.</p><h3>The first miracle</h3>
<p>About five years ago, McCabe was working as a salesperson at Carolina Furniture Concepts, but when the once energetic McCabe began to fall asleep at work, additional symptoms surfaced. His joints hurt and his body swelled up, especially his legs. </p><p>“I had to cut my socks to have circulation in my feet,” McCabe said. </p><p>McCabe said that when his boss, Sandeep Gupta, approached him about taking time off, that was when he finally realized how urgently he needed medical attention. </p><p>Gupta asked McCabe to take a week off to go see a doctor. </p><p>However, McCabe, who worked on commission, said he couldn't afford to take time away from work. Again, Gupta pressed McCabe to see a physician. This time, Gupta appealed to the relationship the two had built working together. </p><p>“I'm telling you as a friend, not a boss,” McCabe remembers Gupta saying. Again, McCabe refused. </p><p>It was more than money that had kept McCabe from becoming a patient. He had seen one of his brothers die of AIDS. After witnessing the way his brother, Tim McCabe, had been treated by physicians and society alike, McCabe had avoided doctors ever since. </p><p>Gupta remembers the day he urged McCabe to see a doctor. </p><p>“He wasn't willing to accept the fact that there was something wrong with him. I just had to push him a little bit to go to the doctor and seek the help he needed,” Gupta recalled. </p><p>It was then that Gupta reached into his pocket and handed McCabe $500. </p><p>“That's the kind of guy he is,” McCabe recalled, wiping away a tear. “I knew he was serious about it, and I knew I needed to do something about it.” McCabe saw a doctor in Asheville and was diagnosed with hepatitis C. </p><p>Initially, he did not tell anyone in his family. Memories of the stigma his brother's disease carried, and now memories his own disease carried as well, kept him from sharing. </p><p>“I didn't want to worry my family — nobody does. … I thought I could bear it all myself,” he said. “I was bearing the burden, but they were glad to. That's the way family and friends — real friends — are.” </p><p>A stranger-turned-friend would help McCabe bear the burden, too.</p><h3>The second miracle</h3>
<p>McCabe continued to work while he looked for a doctor who would agree to accept him as a patient. </p><p>“I couldn't find anyone here that could help me. I went to Greenville, S.C. I went all over,” McCabe said, estimating that he saw at least seven doctors during that time. “But I had a death sentence as soon as I walked in (a doctor's office) because they knew how far along I was.” </p><p>By that time, McCabe said he was having a hard time getting through each day, especially when his mornings almost always began with feeling nauseated or vomiting. </p><p>While he was working, a customer looking for a place to sit would help McCabe find the care he needed. </p><p>While the stranger told McCabe about his aches and pains, McCabe realized they were the same a set of symptoms as his own. </p><p>“I never do this, it's very unprofessional, but I asked him if he was sick. He said, 'Yeah, and you are, too,' ” McCabe said. “He told me that I wasn't going to find what I was looking for in Asheville, and to call him when I got my blood reports and he would refer me to a doctor.” </p><p>As McCabe's symptoms grew worse, he called the man. </p><p>“I know you want to do this on your own. I wanted to do it on my own, too. But take it from me,” the man said. “Go to Duke.”</p><h3>The third miracle</h3>
<p>Anxious for help, McCabe went to Duke Medical Center in early 2011. </p><p>Muir, the liver disease specialist, said he still remembers what he thought when he met McCabe, “He was quite ill. He was already at that point where it was quite advanced,” he said. “I remember thinking that he's dying before our eyes.” </p><p>The only way to save his life, Muir said, was a liver transplant. </p><p>The disease continued to progress, and McCabe's condition worsened. More tests were done, but the Hendersonville man showed no signs of improvement. </p><p>Two days after his 59th birthday, McCabe was told there was nothing else the medical staff could do for him without a new liver. </p><p>“They told me I could either stay around Durham, or I could go home. I knew what that meant,” he said. </p><p>After talking with his wife, Jamie McCabe, and his family, McCabe decided to go home the next day. </p><p>As McCabe and his wife walked toward the doors, a nurse ran up to McCabe and grabbed his arm. </p><p>“You've got a liver,” she said. </p><p>McCabe wiped a tear from his face as he recalled the moment and, looking toward the heavens, said, “I'm sorry. It just blows me away. I'm not sure if it was a nurse or an angel.” </p><p>According to Muir, there is something miraculous about finding a liver for McCabe just in time. </p><p>“You can be at the top of the transplant list and be so sick, yet you have to hope that by the time that you need it that a liver becomes available in time,” Muir said.</p><h3>The final miracle</h3>
<p>Hepatitis C is not automatically cured by a transplant, since the virus will continue to live in both the bloodstream and the liver. However, McCabe's care at Duke coincided with new research in hepatitis C and new treatments with better success rates. </p><p>“There's been a lot of research on hepatitis C in the last decade,” Muir said. “There are pills that specifically target the hepatitis C to keep it from making a new virus. Now, we're in the next wave of drugs. … We are light years ahead of where we were even at the time that he was diagnosed.” </p><p>McCabe said he began taking the hepatitis drug a year ago. In the first six to eight weeks, he went from a 50 million viral count to zero. </p><p>Muir said McCabe has shown no signs of hepatitis C for more than 10 months, and is considered cured. </p><p>“This is why we do this. These people find themselves in these situations, and it's so amazing to know that this is what medicine currently allows,” Muir said.</p><p>For McCabe, the story of his liver transplant is a series of miraculous events that allows him to live his life today. When McCabe went into surgery, he said his goal was to meet his granddaughter, Leanora. </p><p>“My next goal is to go to that first Little League game for Eli,” McCabe said. </p><p>As he continues to follow his treatment today, McCabe still keeps a few pairs of the old socks that used to cut when hepatitis C symptoms caused his feet to swell. </p><p>“I put them on sometimes just to remind myself how lucky I am,” McCabe said.</p><p>___</p><p>Reach Byrd at caitlin.byrd@blueridgenow.com or 828-694-7881.</p>